


Among the Shadows and Steep

by spicedrobot



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Bottom Tekhartha Zenyatta, Breeding, Cloaca, Drug-Induced Sex, Frottage, Human Zenyatta, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, NSFW Art, Naga, Oral Sex, Poisoning, Tentacle Dick, Teratophilia, Top Genji Shimada, Vaginal Fingering, a self care fic really, drug nail, genji gets better, kisses tags that one's for u bunny, some sex pistols manga shit going on in the background too ig, zen has a snussy that's the whole point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:40:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23133316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicedrobot/pseuds/spicedrobot
Summary: They had warned Genji of what awaited him, and still, he is ensnared.
Relationships: Genji Shimada/Tekhartha Zenyatta
Comments: 7
Kudos: 188





	Among the Shadows and Steep

The nomad is tired. 

The switchbacks are nearly eroded by rockslides and heavy rains, and the path before him had disappeared beneath stubborn scrubs and crumbled cliff face. Scaling tiled buildings and stone walls isn’t the same as scrambling upon lose rock and moss, and Genji had paid for each misstep with aching bones and bruises. The only relief to be found is the very landscape responsible for his pain: large blooms of crimson rhododendron in the vast valleys below, butter yellow poppies whispering as he passes, the ancient pine and distant mountains tipped in ivory. 

The sun looms at twilight degree, casting long shadows alongside swathes of golden light. It is quieter up here than at the mountain’s base, and he hears water bubbling somewhere nearby. Genji follows the sound, the canteen at his hip light. Perhaps the brook would open into a proper stream, and he could feast on something other than dried meat and congee. 

He follows the thickening vegetation and the building sound until he sees it, smooth river stones and water running clear and quick. He kneels a moment to fill his canteen, takes a deep swig, wincing as the cold settles into his skull. The steady wind lulls, the murmur of leaves quieting, the sound of birds far off and unremarkable. In the silence, he hears it. 

A voice, resonant and low, lingering like the last note of a hymn. 

Genji has not seen a single person since beginning his ascent, the closest village two days behind him. It had been a small, meek place; the townsfolk were wary and drank heavily, averted their eyes and spoke in whispers. They had warned him of the beast that lingered upon the cliffs, shadow and steep its protector. 

_ It steals into the village under the cover of darkness and takes them. Women, children, the infirm. Easy targets. _

Genji slinks close to the ground, using the brush as cover, and follows the voice. The stream steadily widens, bracketed by pines and thick brush, lush blue flowers that Genji does not know, tucked against the earth. Then before him, the source of the stream, the source of the voice.

He parts the leaves of his cover, peering over the lake, silent as a shadow.

Genji is not sure what he expected, but he stares, wordless and wide eyed. A man stands with his back to him in the center of the dark pool, naked in the building chill. Tall and lean, sunkissed skin, freckles like dappling sunlight along his shoulders. He sings, deep and wordless, the notes shivering down Genji’s spine. The man turns, faintly in profile, the jieba upon his shaved head shimmering in the last of the light. The water stills. The voice quiets. 

Dark eyes peer into his own.

Genji stands suddenly, cheeks reddened beneath his mask.

“You should not be here, monk.”

The monk blinks, hands splayed upon the surface of the water. 

“There is a monster that makes these cliffs its home, preying on the vulnerable.”

Wide-eyed and curious, he smiles, and Genji’s heart patters stupidly in his chest. 

“Is that how I appear, stranger?” the monk hums, and Genji darkens further. “Vulnerable?”

Something catches his eye beneath the surface of the water. Overlapping like river stones, browns and ochres in patchwork symmetry. A long, scaled mass. It shifts, and a cold rush seizes his gut.

“You—!”

The monk, no, a beast, a creature, lifts his hands.

“Please, I do not intend to harm you.”

Genji draws his blade, the space between them closing as the last of the sun dips beneath the mountain’s peak. Who knew better than a dragon the destruction a viper could cause?

The creature twists sinuously, and Genji’s blade only glances his flank, teal blood in the dying light. Then sharp pain along the nape of his neck, claws splitting the thick fabric of his turban like a whip through air, the cold shock of water stunning him as he breaks the surface of the pool. 

He kicks off the stones of the lake bottom, surfacing with a gasp. His blade is lost, but he is not unarmed. Genji moves to draw his wakizashi, but the viper’s tail twists around his body, tightening and trapping his limbs at his sides.

“Not many have been able to wound me,” the viper sighs, and Genji’s attention snaps to his face. His claws trace the deep cut, a glow outlining each point, a trick of the light, no, magic, his skin knitting itself back together.

Genji struggles, but he can’t shake his hold, his tail, huge and powerful, seizes around him, stealing his breath. He should be cold, but his body feels warm, too warm, even with his armor and clothes soaked through, the ache in his neck tingling, eyesight blurring at its edges. 

“Forgive me. This will be uncomfortable,” the viper murmurs. 

His pupils are large, ringed with gold. Genji cannot look away, even as his vision darkens.

Even as he loses himself to the soft humming that had led him to his doom.

* * *

It’s warm. 

Like white sand in the late afternoon sun, the texture pleasant along the soles of his feet. Eyelids heavy, limbs shivery, the wounds and aches of the climb soothed away. Something smooth and pleated and firm encloses his body.

Genji opens his eyes.

There’s light, orbs like will-o-the-whisps emanating mellow gold, augmenting the bioluminescence of the flora upon the walls. There’s the sound of water echoing somewhere far off. There are eyes peering into his own, dark and curious.

“You are awake,” the viper says with a smile that reaches his eyes. “I am glad.”

Heart racing, a struggle, a fight to the death, hope to strike down the one who had stolen helpless villagers. Instead, Genji stares, head fogged, skin prickling, at his body flushing before his very eyes. He is naked, scars and ink exposed within the viper’s coils. 

“Your clothes were soaked. I have set them out to dry.”

“What did you do to me?” Genji says, slower and softer than he means.

“My claws secret a toxin that makes one...amenable,” he looks away, lips thinned. “I did not wish to fight.”

“And what of the others? Did they fight?”

He watches the viper’s expression carefully, working through the accusation. Then those eyes capture his again, a traitorous twist in his belly, blooming warm. 

“Yes, I am the beast they fear. The ones remaining loathe the loss of those they exacted their whims upon, no matter how cruel.”

The viper never looks away, and Genji cannot read his expression, round brows drawn taut, face neutral.

“Tell me, nomad. You are in the heart of my home. Do you see bones upon the floor, smell old blood and death? You who covers himself completely and suffers the burden of appearance...do you think me evil?” 

Voice soft, distracting in a way that Genji cannot put into words.

“Where are the missing villagers?”

“I steal the neglected and abused. I frighten those that would hurt their brothers and sisters. I keep them wary and watchful, and stay hands that would otherwise harm.

If you continue on your path through the mountain, you will come to a monastery within the valley after. There you will find the lost, happy and safe.”

Sweat prickles along Genji’s brow, and his breathing draws shallow. Each word the viper utters has an echo, reverberating between his ears.

“And if I don’t believe you?”

“You are alive, are you not?” The viper’s coils tighten around him, and Genji swallows a gasp. “Though your physiology makes this...complicated.”

With his tattoo shifting along the length of his thigh and his dragon’s blood afire beneath his skin, Genji cannot deny it. 

“S-so I’ve noticed.” 

He licks his lips, suppresses a shiver. There’s a scent in the air that, now noticed, flares his nostrils. The viper smells  _ good _ . 

“What’s going to happen to me?”

“The euphoria you will experience can be weathered, but...it will not be pleasant.” The viper looks chastened. “If you wish, I will take responsibility.”

His heart thunders, skin damp with sweat, the sweet, building ache drawing his lower body tight. The viper offers himself, dangerous and scaled but so very pretty, and if this is his final moment, Genji accepts his offer gladly.

* * *

The nomad isn’t tired. Not anymore. The toxin doesn’t take his mind, although he wishes he could blame it for the things he does. It makes each motion hot, important, skin tight and mind soft, everything too much and not enough. He pumps his hips, forces his cock faster, deeper into the coiling, hot twist of the viper’s tail. 

The viper had offered his name into the shell of Genji’s ear as he had teased his body to this state, teeth to throat, fingers against nipples, plucking and cupping. Now, Zenyatta reclines against the flora backed stone, gold relfecting in his eyes as he watches Genji fuck against him. His hands rest on his stomach, lingering a few inches above a tantalizing split of scales that draws Genji’s eye. It’s the source of the scent, spiced and rich, wetting Genji’s mouth with drool. He’s trapped between fucking into the tight channel Zenyatta offers and needing to bury his face into that plump, tantalizing swell.

“It is our nature,” Zenyatta hums quietly. “It will run its course.”

Only that’s not it, not fully. Base instincts nor shared ancestry alone kept his belly hot and needy. Perhaps if Zenyatta were an uglier beast, had not so easily offered his name and body without a thought to reciprocation. His eyes, his posture, speak it: as much or as little as Genji desired he would have. 

Genji stares with barely bridled hunger, watching as Zenyatta trace listless circles beneath his dewed abdomen, shocked by his sweet hum when he draws his fingers up his chest, pinching the dark peaks of his nipples. It’s upon him in an instant; Genji curls over and groans, spilling eagerly into the writhing clench of smooth, slippery scale. It should be the end of it, the last, eager pulse emptying so much white against Zenyatta’s hide, but the tender, too soon feeling evaporates, fugue setting his teeth on edge, desire forcing his eyes upward once more.

“Not enough,” Genji says, but it comes out a low, embarrassing growl. 

He leans in, dizzed, seeking, and Zenyatta watches without shame or reservation as his mouth descends. A gasp, quiet, when his lips touch the swollen, leaking slit, bracketed immediately by Zenyatta’s hands. He smells like a dream, tastes like it, Genji’s tongue sliding over his own lips, fighting everything in him not to moan. 

“You need not,” Zenyatta whispers, and Genji scoffs. 

He frames the slit with his fingers, spreading Zenyatta open, revealing soft teal insides and something surprising: two small, tapered tendrils at its apex, swelling and twitching before his eyes. Genji kisses them without hesitation, tasting, thrilling as they jerk against his tongue, sweetness and heat. Fingers weave into his hair, press his face into the mess leaking below.

_Art by[@flyhandz](https://twitter.com/flyhandz)._

“I…”

Genji smirks. He is toxin addled, but the viper had no excuse for how his hands desperately raze his scalp, tugging pain-pleasure that shot straight to his cock. Genji had never been controlled before, not really, everything handed to him if he behaved. A wanderer’s life had seen that path for him too, no one skilled enough to challenge a dragon’s son.

The viper’s tail twists possessively around his thigh; his low grunts rumble in his ears. Genji's cock desperately pulses as he mouths at the drooling slit, riding each needy undulation. Zenyatta is to blame for this desperation, but he wants against it all to hear his cries, to make him wallow in pleasure, trapped and as lost as he had made Genji. His mouth seals around both tapered cocks, lapping and sucking, a finger teasing along his opening. The viper catches his cries behind his knuckles, pumping weakly into Genji’s mouth, tail seizing around his leg tight enough to bruise.

A digit slides in without resistance, caught by impossibly soft, plush muscle, and Genji’s cock twitches, nearly spills again, mindlessly dragging against Zenyatta’s body as he fucks his fingers inside. Loud, wet smacks, knuckles coating in shining slick, thicker than a human’s, fragrant, sweet. He wants to plunge his tongue inside, wants to see the mess he’s making, but the hand in his hair keeps him anchored, flush to his scales, tongue mapping between his cocks, sliding over them again and again to the sound of quiet, inhuman chirps rumbling from Zenyatta’s chest.

The fluttering around his fingers draws hot and impossibly tight, Zenyatta flexing for him, chasing his pleasure. Genji whimpers, the sound vibrating against Zenyatta’s cocks, a shocking, high pitched sound that sets Genji on the precipice of madness. 

“Enough. Take me.” Inhuman, harsh with the accent that Genji recognizes from before. 

Genji crawls up his body like a predator, all muscle and sinuous, eager pace, poised for the strike. His cock drags against Zenyattas’, another, high-pitched sound barely in hearing range. Zenyatta’s arms twist around Genji’s lower back, but not gripping. careful, even now. Genji shudders to think what more toxin would cause. Then, despite himself, he wishes in some dark, dangerous part of him, to know.

Zenyatta’s eyes gleam, inhuman and violently gold, his sharpened teeth catching his own bottom lip between them. He is beautiful, terrifying, perhaps the same could be said of himself, scarred and wild and venom-lost, sinking into that worked open slit without warning. Shared groan, shared ardor. His hands seal along the seam where warm skin becomes lacquered scale, soft and smooth against his calloused palms. The pace is brutal, it can be nothing else, not when his mind is lost to him, when Zenyatta’s grip grows sloppy and claws map reddened lines in his skin.

There is something primal, something larger than them both. The need to breed, their bodies recognizing one another, craving like nothing else. How his family would sneer at a lowly snake tempting the apex of their kind, but all that is white noise beneath Zenyatta’s eyes, as he holds Genji flush to his chest, urging him harder, faster, letting him gorge in a way few could bear. Proper partners are difficult to find, bloodline rare but weak to breed. His muscles sing with it, veins and blood and bone, and he sinks deep, blunt teeth sharpening, fingernails into short-tipped claws, shimmering, translucent scales an armor along his skin. 

“Z-zen—” he manages, somehow, in blood colored haze. 

An answering cry, insides rippling around him, tail circling his torso, keeping him deep, trapped, pumping white-hot and helpless into Zenyatta’s body. Blearily, he looks between them, groaning at the sight of his own cock gently indenting Zenyatta’s stomach. He clenches his teeth, sharp-tipped and dangerous, draws his thumb over Zenyatta’s cocks in quick, sloppy circles, and the viper thrashes, utters a wordless, wavering yell. They spill over his hand, sweet-scented and nearly translucent seed, twitching and curling around his thumb.

He cannot stop the stuttering, aborted jerks of his own hips, tastes copper on his tongue, the fronts of their bodies slippery and sweltering. There’s a hand in his hair, clutching at the nape of his neck, drawing Genji forward. Their lips meet, a lengthy tongue tasting the red at the edge of his lips.

Genji growls as he’s eased to his back, but Zenyatta never lets him slip from inside him, eyes drowned in gold. He shifts, lazy and easy, interlacing their fingers, kissing each scarred cheek as he feels another telltale grunt, a needy jostling of Genji’s hips. The tip of the viper’s tail teases between his cheeks, pressing inside him, and Genji’s groan joins the softer sound of laughter.

* * *

He opens his eyes. The light of the cave is the same, the quiet far off water too. Soft breathing tickles the hairs on his neck. The heat has abated, leaving only the warmth of the viper curled around him. The nomad is tired, but his aches and pains are satisfying ones.

There is a hushed second when Zenyatta stirs, but when he opens his eyes and smiles, Genji draws their lips together, worry easing from his brow.

“Would you like to see it?”Zenyatta asks against his lips. “The monastery. It is breathtaking this time of year.”

And before Zenyatta’s even finished speaking, Genji’s nodding, pressing another kiss to the scar that bisects his single dimple.


End file.
